Gemotions

A tremor ran through him. He saw her face, usually so open and expressive, now a guarded mask. She had been taking those calls for so long. The phone was buzzing again. He felt the blood rush to his head, a hot, suffocating wave. He began to pace.

He stared at the phone. It sat on the coffee table, a sleek black object of betrayal. He felt a sudden, irresistible urge to fling it across the room, to shatter it into a million pieces.

He spun on his heel and stalked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him with a resounding thud. The silence was an ominous void, filled with unanswered questions.